Reluctant Hero
by specialkcantgetenough
Summary: What if the Red Eye flight was hijacked and Jackson had to save Lisa and the entire plane to save his own skin with the agency? Rated for violence, language and some sensuality.
1. Chapter One

_No copyright infringement intended. I do not own Red Eye or any of the characters._

_A/N: This should look familiar, but watch for the twist at the end of the chapter! _

Lisa's eyes fluttered open and the pain in her forehead made her stomach turn. What happened? Where was she?

"I want you to get excited about your life. But you gotta get real."

Things got real very quickly as the pit in her stomach turned icy. She was trapped on a plane with a Dr. Phil quoting psychopath who was holding her father hostage to get her to become an accomplice to the assassination of a Politian.

"I'm challenging you, starting now, to stop dealing in opinions and assumptions and start dealing in facts. Fact: Fearing to act is human. Failing to act is just plain dumb. Fact: Thinking when you should be acting will only make your head hurt." I'm not makin' this up, Leese. It's right here." He was holding the book. The book that had been her only chance of communication, of letting someone know she was being blackmailed into killing a world leader. A glance over her shoulder showed her that mercifully the older woman was still alive, but that didn't change her situation.

"Fact: You've been out for a half an hour and Keefe's room still hasn't been changed. So I got you some aspirin." His voice had taken on the tone of an impatient parent dealing with a disorderly child. One look at his face told her he was nearing the edge of sanity, and she didn't know what would happen if he lost it. "I need you coherent, Leese."

Jackson was beyond frustrated. He watched as the woman took his offered medication and reached for the phone. The pilot's voice came over the loudspeaker regarding the weather, but Jackson's mind was focused on only one thing: getting Lisa Reisert to make the call. He had worked blackmail stings before. He knew how to persuade people and had taken the minor inconvenience of doing it on board a plane in stride. Especially with a mark like Lisa, he had expected little to no resistance. Yet here he was, reading Dr. Phil of all people to prove his point. "Now, let's do this."

"If I do it, if I make that call, do you promise you'll tell who's outside my dad's house to go away?"

She was still fighting him, even after he had painted such a simple picture of the consequences. Sarcasm was a tool he used often, but with Lisa it was genuine disbelief in her ability to grasp the concept. "You call, I call, Dad wakes up, puts on coffee, never suspects a thing, you go back to work, life goes on."

The look in her eyes told him she had broken and before she could change her mind he ran her credit card through the phone. "I am now calling your hotel. I don't have to tell you to sound convincing." Even he was surprised by how angry his tone sounded. Usually he remained calm and in control, letting the mark ride the emotional rollercoaster. Her mocking reply of "You've said enough," made him feel dirty, like he'd compromised one of his rules of conduct. He handed her the phone and juvenilely responded, "Good."

She was making the call. Jackson allowed himself a tiny breath of victory. In just a few moments he would have accomplished his mission. Then he would keep Ms. Reisert under careful watch until he received word that the job had been done. A quick flashback to their conversation at the Tex Mex made him wonder what they would talk about after the job was done. Of course she would feel guilty and if her previous attempts were any sign she would probably still try to prevent the assassination from taking place, but what then? After he foiled her attempts to escape and save the day, would they talk? Jackson knew about guilt, what it can do to a person. Lisa wasn't a bad person by any stretch of the imagination. A bit of a loner, and far too noble for his tastes, but she didn't really deserve to have her life ruined. That was just the nature of the job. She would be blamed for the assassination plot, lose her job, and probably spend some time in jail, that is if the company who hired him didn't decide to take her out themselves. Still, he knew it would be the guilt that really ruined her life. An unpleasant twinge a the back of his mind reminded him that he would carry that same guilt, more even if he counted Lisa into the body count. Maybe he could talk her into leaving town before things went down. There was a laugh. He would blackmail her, then help her deal with her guilt. With a grimace Jackson wished he'd never picked up that Dr. Phil book. It had apparently turned him into a therapist.

Something wasn't right. The tension in the air had changed somehow and Jackson's training picked up on it right away. With a glance at Lisa, he began scanning the cabin and noticed a passenger across the aisle having trouble with their phone. Realizing what was going on he grabbed the phone away. "Gimme that. Hello? Cynthia?" The static on the other end was all the response he needed. Shaking his head, for the first time he realized that he might not pull this off. He felt something he hated. Fear. He knew what would happen to him if this job didn't happen. Death took the number one slot. Probably number two as well actually. Best case scenario he would be blacklisted and forced to go into hiding for the rest of his life.

As he hung up the phone, he had to give her credit. She had almost pulled it off. If he hadn't noticed the other passenger, she would have completed the call and he would have carried on as if the plan were still in motion. "Pretty clear thinking, given the circumstances. Let me guess, stress management courses? They're really paying off. We get outta this, I may have to steal you."

"Excuse me, miss."

"Yes?"

"Are the phones not working?"

Lisa felt sick. She had been so close! She huddled in her seat as Jackson talked to the stewardess, knowing her attempt would have consequences. She braced herself for another head butt or a slap, but was surprised to see him so rattled. She watched him try to regain control of the situation, and for the first time, she realized something. "You don't have a backup plan? Why are you doing this here?"

His response was almost a laugh, as if he realized the ridiculousness of the situation himself. "Blame your grandmother. She keeled over, you hopped on the next flight, Keefe changed plans, here we are."

"Excuse me. Peanuts or pretzels?"

"Peanuts, thank you." Jackson snatched a bag of peanuts in an effort to get rid of the stewardess.

"Ma'am?"

Lisa shook her head, "No." Jackson grabbed her a bag anyways. His futility was her futility, so she had to ask the big question. "So, what happens if they don't start working?"

His eyes turned cold. "You bury your dad in a closed casket."

They sat in silence, watching the little blue screen on the phone, each one hoping for it to turn back on, but for entirely different reasons. Lisa could literally feel the tension pouring out of her blackmailer and for the first time noticed his vulnerability. He was doing a good job of hiding it, but as they waited for something neither of them could control she could almost relate. Almost. Except of course for the killing part, and the terrorizing people part. Still, she had to try. If he could be the man she met in the airport, there must be some part of him that could recognize how wrong this was. She broke the silence. "I know him."

"Know who?"

"Keefe." She forced herself to make eye contact. "He's a really decent man."

With a shrug he turned hostile. "Well, sometimes bad things happen to good people. Like you." Lisa shrunk back as he went on the offensive. "You know, I've known you for a while now, Lisa. Before tonight, I mean. And far as I can tell, your life revolves around your job. The occasional cocktail at the corner cafe, the classic late-night movies. And scrambled eggs at am." Lisa turned away, horrified. His voice turned mocking as he asked, "What turned you into such a loner? Was it your parents' divorce? Wait, did someone break your heart?"

"The captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign."

The ding from the sign was a god send. She had taken a chance and opened up to him and he had destroyed her sense of security, her sense of self confidence, and her sense of uneasy camaraderie, reminding her that he was a monster. She couldn't be so close to him anymore. "I have to go to the restroom."

He held up the empty water bottle. "Best I can do."

Enough was enough. His petulance was getting ridiculous. "OK, you know what? You got me. I'm gonna make that call when I can make the call. But right now you gotta let me go." She held her ground. "I need to go."

He balanced his options carefully. "OK. I trust you."

"And I need my purse."

He laughed. "Not that much."

He watched as her body swayed down the aisle toward the toilets at the back of the plane. She was so small, she looked almost fragile the way her shoulders stooped and she had to put out her hand to catch herself against the wall. But as she reached the back, a little girl came running down the aisle and cut in front of her. Lisa stopped, obviously debating her options, and slowly turned back up the aisle. "There's a line, I'll go up front," she mumbled as she passed him in the aisle.

Jackson returned to his seat so he could keep an eye on her as she moved toward the cockpit, but he had a split second of uneasiness. Part of him wanted to race after her and drag her back to the seat next to him.

Two seconds later it was too late. The man held a box cutter to her neck and held her in front of him like a shield. In a thick Russian accent he yelled, "No one move! We are taking over this plane!"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Anything in italics is meant to be in Russian… except this note of course. Haha, you'll see what I mean. I do not own Red Eye or any characters you may recognize._

Chapter Two

It happened too fast. So Jackson had to be faster. He looked at Lisa and found her staring back at him, her hands trying to pry the hijacker's arm from around her middle. The question in her eyes would have to go unanswered for now. In the chaos that followed the announcement Jackson made his way to the back of the plane, easily blending in with the crowd. He ducked behind the curtain and tried to assess the situation.

It was a crowded plane, full of people who caught the last flight out to Miami. He watched from his hiding spot as four more men stood and began shouting. The man holding Lisa hostage dragged her backwards towards the nose of the plane. The others subdued the other passengers, shoving them back into their seats. "Sit down! Sit down!" "Everybody sit!" yelled another Russian, a large swarthy fellow with a nasty looking scar across his face. "I kill next person who moves!"

Out of the corner of his eye Jackson saw the older flight attendant silently shuffle toward the phone near the door of the plane. For a moment they locked eyes and he shook his head, trying to dissuade her. But the by-the-book stewardess set her jaw and reached for the phone. She had it off the cradle and to her ear before a knife flew out from behind the curtain at the front of the plane and cleanly planted in the side of her head. A scream from her younger counterpart was ended by another hijacker who pinned her against the wall. The plane went silent as the curtain parted and the killer stepped out. His long coat swept behind him as he slowly strode over to the dead woman. With no regard for her, he put his heavy boot on her head and used it as leverage as he yanked his knife out of her skull. He wiped the blade on her sweater and quickly returned it to his belt.

_Alexei_ _Kirill_. Jackson knew of him. Their work tended to be in opposite hemispheres, but he had heard of the hit man. Which was what surprised him about his current actions. Kirill was a hit man, not a hijacker. Not suicidal. Everyone knows that hijacking never ended well, especially for the hijackers. It was messy. It was too public. It was trashy, in Jackson's opinion. He waited with the rest of the plane to hear what he would say, even the passengers could tell that he was in charge. The man took his time, seeming to look everywhere else except his captive audience. When he did look up, he stared coldly at his hostages. Then, he nodded to the scarred hijacker to begin. The big Russian smiled as he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that we will not be landing in Miami this evening."

A few people groaned, including the uptight man from the line at the airport, but they were quickly silenced by having a blade waved in front of them. "Yes, there will be a slight detour, but I assure you that if you cooperate we will have no more unnecessary… disturbances."

After his speech he looked back to Kirill. The hit man simply jerked his head toward the front of the plane and said in Russian _"Cockpit."_

Lisa was starting to see stars. The man behind her had his arm wrapped around her stomach so tightly she could hardly breathe. He was taller than she was and she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the floor. It all happened so fast, one moment she was trying to escape from Jackson and now she was standing with two of the hijackers outside the cockpit door. Her mind kept replaying his face over and over again. He had seemed as surprised as she was by the turn of events. This was not part of the plan.

"Tell them, open the door," the hijacker growled into the tiny attendant's ear. The girl was still crying, but she shook her head bravely. "You will do this, or we will slit her throat." He grinned at his partner and Lisa felt the box cutter at her neck press harder. Horrible images flashed through her mind as she reacted to the knife and she started to shake.

"I can't!" whispered the attendant as she met Lisa's eyes.

"You would kill her?"

She shook her head, "No! No, please! Don't ki-"

"Shut your mouth!" growled the Russian and he slapped her face.

"No-" Lisa whimpered, but it was so quiet only the man holding her heard.

"Shh, pretty one," he crooned in her ear, only making her flashbacks worse. "I only cut you a little bit, see?"

Lisa froze as he brought the blade up in front of her face. She could see her blood on the edge and realized she had been cut. Now she felt the trickle of blood running down her chest and she felt the urge to vomit.

"Please," she closed her eyes and whispered the word. "Please." She wasn't sure who she was talking to, but the little stewardess seemed to take the words to heart.

"Alright, alright. I'll do it."

Her shaking hand reached for the intercom, but before she could press the button her captor gripped the back of her neck. "You lie. You lie and get them to open the door or your pretty friend will die."

She nodded and glanced up in prayer before she pushed the button. "I have a fresh pot of coffee," she stuttered out, "would you like some?"

The moment it took to respond seemed to last forever. Finally, "You're a life saver, come on in."

The Russian grinned. "You're a life saver." He pushed her down on her knees. "Thank you little one." She stared up into his eyes and he slowly slit her throat.

"No!" Lisa cried out, but it was too late. Her scream was followed by a loud bang as he kicked his way into the cockpit and plunged his bloody knife into the co-pilot. The pilot had no time to react before he was held hostage.

Lisa looked around at the carnage. She could see through the curtain and saw the faces of the frightened passengers watching the other hijackers. Strangely, Jackson was no where to be found. Where could he have gone? Was he dead? Her thoughts were stopped short by the man behind her. He was smelling her hair. She went rigid, but he noticed and spun her around to face him.

"Hey baby," he smirked, "why don't we-"

He never finished because Lisa threw up all over him.

"_Suka сука!" _he screamed and shoved her to the floor. "Look what you did!"

Lisa threw her hands up to defend herself, but he was having none of that. He pulled off his tie and knotted her wrists behind her back as he cursed her in Russian.

The commotion drew the attention of the other hijackers and one came running. When he saw what had happened he started to laugh. Lisa cowered on the floor as they jabbered in Russian, her brain trying to see another outcome other than a repeat of her worst nightmare. Her would be Romeo came toward her, but all of a sudden a large pair of boots blocked his path. "Don't waste my time," said a calm voice.

"But boss, she just-"

"Go to the back."

She dared a glance up to see her protector. He was tall, with short dark hair and hooded eyes. He looked down at her and seemed almost bored. Lisa tried to speak, but found she had forgotten to breathe. After a few seconds she said, "Th-thank you. I-"

With no warning he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet. He leaned in close and she felt him trail his eyes over her body. For one moment, Lisa thought she had traded one rapist for another, but he gripped her arm, shoved her into a bathroom stall and slammed the door.

Lisa sank to the floor, trembling from head to foot. She was barely able to see through the tears but she knew she was covered in the other girl's blood. She fought back the urge to vomit again and climbed unsteadily to her feet to take in her appearance. She looked almost as badly as she felt. There was the beginning of a bruise from where Jackson had head butted her. She had a trickle of blood trailing down her chest from the nick on her neck. Her eyes were wide and wild. Somewhere in the haze she thought she heard two shots being fired, but the shock filtered them out. Unable to move with her arms behind her back, she sat on the toilet and tried to curl into the fetal position.

After the two hijackers disappeared toward the cockpit with Lisa and the flight attendant, Jackson watched as the others congregated around Kirill. Quickly, he ran the other men through his mental database, but recognized no one. Good. More than two criminal masterminds on a plane is crowded. Of course… more than one is crowded too. Kirill spoke in a low tone giving instructions in Russian to his men, probably hoping no one on board spoke Russian. But he was wrong. Jackson understood it very well and spoke it like a native.

"_The wheelchair with the guns is hidden in the back."_

Immediately, Jackson spun around, knowing he only had moments before one of the hijackers came to retrieve them. If he could manage to get to them first… what? He could save the day? Rescue a plane full of people and become a national hero? Lisa, Lisa, Lisa; his mind chanted her name like a mantra. Was she even still alive? Did he still have a chance at completing the job? He searched the small space at the back of the plane for the wheelchair in question, finally spotting it wedged between two cabinets.

He heard the men coming down the aisle and knew his time was running short. He ripped the wheelchair out and searched for the hidden guns.

"Please," he heard from the compartment behind him. "Please don't hurt us!"

He heard the hijackers laughing as they obviously tormented some poor passenger on their way to the back.

Finally Jackson located the guns sewn into the seat of the chair and he ripped at the flimsy leather fabric to get to them. Just as his fingers wrapped around the gun he heard the curtain being pulled back behind him. He spun to face the Russians and fired off two shots… into the wall. Damn his lousy marksmanship.

In seconds they had him pinned to the floor, a boot on his face and the arm with the gun wrenched up behind him. Heavy boot steps came up the aisle and he strained to look up into Kirill's livid face. The hit man looked angrily around at his men and began shouting. _"What the hell? Do I have to do everything? Who is he and how did he get a gun?"_

As precarious as his situation was, Jackson started to laugh. Kirill froze and looked down at him in surprise. The whole situation was getting too ridiculous and Jackson couldn't stop himself. "Looks to me like you hired some goons when you should have gone looking for professionals."

Kirill was silent.

Jackson felt the boot on his face press harder and he grunted in Russian, _"What I don't understand is what you're doing here at all, Kirill. This isn't your usual scene."_

Kirill shoved the man holding him down to the side and pulled Jackson up by his collar. "You know me?" he asked as he squinted at Jackson's face.

Jackson spit out some blood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I know of you. We have something in common."

Suddenly, Jackson saw a light come on in Kirill's eyes. "Jackson Rippner_."_

A small flash of pride came as Jackson confirmed with a nod.

Kirill's face grew somber. "What are you doing on this plane?"

With a laugh, Jackson replied, "What? A guy can't fly to Miami to visit his sick grandmother?"

Kirill's fist collided with his nose and made his head bounce off the wall behind him.

"Gah!" Jackson gasped and tried to breathe through the pain as Kirill gave instructions to keep him away from the rest of the passengers. Before the stars disappeared, Jackson felt himself being dragged up the aisle between two of the hijackers.

"You know this will never work right?" he yelled over the commotion. The door slammed open and Jackson was tossed into the toilet. He bounced off the sink and fought to keep the door open, but he was too late. "Fuck!" he yelled, punching the door. It took him a second to realize he wasn't alone.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I actually wrote this scene first and then had the rest of the story flow from there. I claim nothing._

Chapter Three

The door slammed open and Jackson was tossed into the toilet. He bounced off the sink and fought to keep the door open, but he was too late. "Fuck!" he yelled, punching the door. It took him a second to realize he wasn't alone.

He stared. She was beautiful; trussed up like a calf at the rodeo. Something he had forgotten he had wrenched in his chest. Her eyes were wide and watery and he couldn't look away. Without thinking, he reached for her.

She shrunk away and her reaction brought him back to reality. He shook his head and roughly grabbed the hair at the back of her head. "You had to get up. You're the most difficult…" He roughly pulled his hand away and turned his attention to her wrists. She had gone almost limp, staring at a spot over his shoulder. He worked silently for a moment and saw how listless she had become. He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Listen to me. Did you overhear anything the hijackers are planning?" Nothing. She looked almost dead, pale and covered in blood, and he lowered his voice. He said, "I'm going to get you out of this mess, you hear me?" He looked up and caught her eyes.

Lisa stared at this. Almost like she didn't know how to react. He finished his thought more as a reminder to himself than intending to hurt Lisa. He finished untying her wrists as he said, "I have to get you away to make that call."

Surprisingly hurt, Lisa reacted, only knowing that she wanted him dead. As if she could have expected differently? He was so hot and cold all the time, she was constantly thrown off balance. Claws out, she jumped for his face with a wounded cry. But he was too fast for her. He easily blocked her attack and soon had her against the door with his hand over her mouth. "Are you crazy?" he whispered urgently, trying to muffle her. "Do you want to bring them back in here?"

Barely breathing, they stood quiet for a long moment, waiting for their hijackers to come investigate the noise. Lisa could feel his breath on her face as he trained his ear to the outside. Finally, Jackson removed his hand, but didn't step back. His long, lean body pressed hers against the door as he said, "Don't fight me Leese. I've never lied to you, it doesn't suit me. We're on the same side for now, so I need you to trust me when I tell you I'm going to get you out of here."

Part of her wanted to object, to say she would have never been in this situation if it weren't for him, but she knew it was a lie. The plane probably would have been hijacked anyways, and she would have been alone. She would never trust him, but she needed his help if she was going to survive this. Lisa slumped against the door and slowly nodded.

Jackson looked her over. She was getting some serious wear and tear. He started methodically checking her injuries. He needed her alert and able to keep up. She winced a little when he touched her wrists where they had been tied. His eyes traveled up to her hairline and he swept her hair back out of her face to inspect a cut there. She gasped a little when he put pressure on her bruise.

Jackson looked down and realized his heartbeat was speeding up. He talked to slow it down. "Doesn't look too serious. Just don't fall asleep on me Leese or we could have problems."

She nodded, her big eyes welling up again. He saw the tears. "We'll be alright. I'll come up with a plan to get you out of here." He mockingly patted her cheek and pushed her chin to the side to inspected the cut on her neck. It was shallow and had already stopped bleeding. He let go of her chin and pushed back on the wall beside her head. His eyes followed the trail of blood down her chest and his heartbeat quickened the lower it went. He was breathing heavily and saw as her breasts rose and fell that she was too. Something just below the neckline of her shirt caught his eye.

Lisa couldn't explain how she was feeling. One part of her was repulsed every time this man touched her, but his gentle ministrations almost made her feel safe. Almost. She hadn't forgotten that head butt from earlier. His fingers trailed down her neck, almost like a caress, and she shivered as something churned in her belly. No one had touched her like this, so intimate, in almost two years. After the parking lot, she subconsciously removed herself from situations that could lead to anything beyond a firm handshake. Being so close to a man, even if that man was Jackson, was making her body come alive. Then his fingers traced her scar. Immediately, she felt her insides turn cold and she shrunk away from his touch.

Jackson stared at the scar and held her still as she squirmed under him. He took a shaky breath as his questions from earlier suddenly shouted in his mind. _What turned you into such a loner? Was it your parents' divorce? Wait, did someone break your heart?_ His stomach clenched as he realized what this meant. "Did someone do that to you?" His eyes went back and forth between the scar and her eyes. "Is that what it is?"

Lisa lied. "No." It wasn't very convincing but she couldn't face the truth on a good day. Why bring her other traumatizing day into this one? She lied again. "No."

She saw something inside him snap. In a second he had swung her petite body around and slammed it into the wall, pinned by his hands at her throat. "I don't think you're a very honest person Leese." She feebly attempted to dislodge herself from his grip but the lack of oxygen was making it difficult to control her limbs. "I've followed you for eight weeks now and I've never seen you order anything but a fucking sea breeze!"

Lisa was blacking out and quite certain she was going to die in this claustrophobic airplane toilet. She struggled, "Can't breathe! Can't breathe!"

Jackson felt her heartbeat slowing and saw the fear in her eyes and realized what he was doing. He snatched his hands away and watched as she crumpled, gasping and coughing for air. He looked in the mirror and caught a glimpse of the demon in his eyes that his victims saw so often. He shook his head and pushed back his hair. Lisa had crawled up on top of the toilet again and hugged her knees to her chest, breathing deeply and trying to keep her arms from shaking. He leaned against the sink and tilted his head toward the ceiling. Without her in his line of sight, he felt himself start to breathe again. He muttered, "Just shut up and let me think. We've only got a little while before my associate meets your father."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus. Again, I do not own these characters. I'm trying to keep them true to form, with a little room for redemption._

Lisa pressed her ear to the door, listening for any sign of boots coming down the aisle. Behind her, Jackson was balancing on the sink and attempting to jimmy open the hatch in the ceiling. He was muttering under his breath as he worked and didn't seem to be having much luck.

"Anything?" she whispered over her shoulder.

"No!" He pulled back his hand to punch the ceiling, but seemed to think better of it when he realized the noise factor. "Shit! These have got the be the smallest screws I've ever seen." Sarcastically, he added. "You're so resourceful, you wouldn't happen to have a screwdriver in your pocket would you Leese?"

She merely shook her head and returned to her listening post. She was getting fed up with his coping mechanism of lashing out at the nearest person when things didn't go his way. For now, that seemed to be her. First she was trapped in the window seat, now it was a 3x3 airplane toilet. "You know, if you had let me bring my purse we might at least have a nail file to work with," she muttered under her breath.

"Cute Leese. You know, I-"

As he responded, his foot slipped into the sink and caused him to pitch forward into the opposite wall, resulting in a loud bang. Lisa froze at her post, knowing someone had to have heard them. Sure enough, seconds later the sound of heavy boots came running up the aisle toward their makeshift prison.

"They're coming!" she whispered frantically.

Jackson didn't even have time to register the pain in his ankle as he quickly dropped to the floor next to Lisa. In two swift movements he spun her around to face him and lifted her up to sit on the sink in front of him. Seeing her look of confusion he smirked and said, "Thanks for the quickie," before crashing his lips down onto hers. She fought, as he knew she would, but he managed to push her skirt up her right leg and wrap it around his waist before the door was yanked open.

She was practically screaming into his mouth, but he tried to make it look good for their audience. Out of the corner of his eye he saw they had been caught by Kirill and one of his cohorts.

"Get her out of there."

Jackson felt himself being pulled away with one hand as the hijacker grabbed Lisa with the other. The big Russian shoved him into the back corner of the toilet and it took him a second to regain his balance. As he turned, he expected to be met with all the hatred Lisa could muster, but she only looked sick again. She looked right past him, took two steps toward the back and fainted… right into Kirill's arms.

For a split second, Jackson swore he saw something flicker in the hit man's eyes, but it was soon gone. He simply hoisted her over his shoulder and headed for the rear of the plane. "Bring him," was all he said.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. We have readjusted our flight plan and will be landing in 45 minutes. Until that time, we ask that you remain calm and stay where you are to prevent any further…mishaps. Thank you for your patience."

Lisa's eyes fluttered open as she caught the tail end of the hijacker's speech and she was met by a familiar face. "Oh you're awake! Thank goodness!" It was the old woman she met in line at the airport. She tried to sit up, but stopped when her head threatened to explode. Vaguely she remembered Jackson mentioning something about a concussion… Jackson. Ignoring the pain, she frantically glanced around for him.

"Shh, everything is alright," fussed the old woman as she tried to steady her. Lisa's incredulous face made her rethink her statement. "Well, for the moment anyways." Before Lisa could argue, she pressed a bottle of water into her hands. "Drink this, it might help."

Still in a haze, Lisa sank back into the seats and accepted the water. "Thank you. What happened?"

"I don't know," the old woman shook her head, "you were up in the front and there was some kind of trouble. The next thing I saw was that man carrying you back here."

Lisa closed her eyes and saw flashes of what had happened. The stewardess choking on her own blood. Being tossed in the toilet. Jackson's fingers trailing down her throat. His breath on her face. His hands around her neck. His eyes-.

"They said they would be landing the plane soon," the old woman continued in a hushed voice.

"Where?"

It wasn't that Lisa was ungrateful for the attention, after all she was in pretty bad shape, but the elderly woman's efforts were making it worse. After learning her friend knew no more than she did about their destination, they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. That's when she felt his gaze. Jackson was settled on the floor next to a couple of teenagers, but he wasn't looking at them. He was looking at her, staring at her with those icy blue eyes. She didn't know how she had missed him before, but now she had seen him, she wished she hadn't.

It wasn't hatred she saw, maybe a bit of annoyance, but mostly like he was trying to puzzle something together. The rage she had seen in the bathroom was nowhere near as unsettling as this casual curiosity. She shifted nervously, trying to look anywhere else but his eyes. They seemed to see every part of her, especially those parts she tried to hide.

Lisa was normally very good at hiding. As a people pleaser she avoided making real connections in favor of giving people what they wanted. That's what made her so good at her job. She could compartmentalize.

His eyes seemed to be accusing her of something.

Unwittingly, her mind flashed back to her conversation with her father before she boarded. She had insisted she was fine when that couldn't have been further from the truth; her grandmother had just died, she had just spent the weekend avoiding her mother's new boyfriend Harvey, and she was trapped in an airport. She gave a tiny gasp as she realized she might die without letting her own father into her life.

He caught that little gasp and his eyes flashed. Was that concern?

For some reason, it made her feel worse. Here was a complete stranger who's job it was to make her life miserable and even he felt sorry for her. Was her life really that bad? She winced as she realized that she had even succeeded in fooling herself into thinking everything was fine. She closed her eyes and felt tears start to roll down her cheeks. Everything was not fine.

Maybe it was the life and death situation of being on a hijacked plane, but Lisa silently wept as she realized her entire life was a charade. She hadn't had a real relationship or even a real conversation since… before. She had simply picked herself up and acted the way she thought she was expected to act. Going through the motions with friends, at work, with her therapist, even at home had become a habit. Then Jackson Rippner walked into her life.

She risked a glance in his direction and saw that he was back to his accusatory stare. Why could he see through her carefully constructed façade? It was like he could read everything about her, everything that had ever happened to her to make her into what she was today.

Unwillingly, flashes of her attack flitted across her vision, almost as if they were playing an in-flight movie.

_A hand over her mouth as she dropped her keys._

She clenched her fists and pressed them into her temples. Not now. Not here. Not when she knew he would be able to see.

_The rough cement scraping her knees as he forced her to the ground._

A scream bubbled up in her chest at the absurdity of her situation. Here she was, on a plane full of real-life hijackers and she was being tormented by something that happened two years ago. Unable to look away, Lisa found herself staring back at Jackson, knowing he could read everything on her face.

_Pain in her arm as he wrenched her onto her back. The sick smell of sweat and his breath so close to her face._

Jackson was close. She could tell. His face hadn't changed, but his eyes were slowly brightening, and almost as if he could read her thoughts, she knew he would figure it out. For a second she wondered whether she was glad.

_His hand sliding up her leg and pulling her skirt over her hip._

Lisa pressed a hand over her scar as if it were a fresh wound and saw the light come on. He knew. Then she felt a hand grasp the hair at the back of her head.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who has encouraged me to keep writing. It means a lot. I wish I had more time to work on this story, but rest assured I will keep at it. I own nothing._

Her one time rescuer, the man with the long coat, was up in the cockpit with a few of his team so she shouldn't have been surprised when he sought her out. Her eyes never left Jackson's as the hijacker wrenched her out of her seat, brandishing his gun at the other passengers as if daring them to stop him. She had been sitting near the back of the plane, so it wasn't far for him to drag her back behind the curtain so he could finish what he had started earlier.

_NO!_ Her mind screamed. She could still taste her rapist's breath from her flashback and here the worst was about to be repeated. Jackson's eyes seemed to mimic her thoughts, but there was something else there. _FIGHT!_

Time seemed to slow down. Her breath came in tiny wheezes, inhaling more than exhaling as she was dragged back. She was starting to feel faint again and she hated herself for it. Jackson had been joking before when he mentioned stress management courses, but he didn't know how close he had been. Her therapist had recommended some self defense classes at the Y. Lisa had gone to put on a good face for her family, but how could she use what she'd learned if she passed out every time someone touched her?

_FIGHT LISA! FIGHT!_ Still, hadn't she fought back earlier when Jackson tried to blackmail her? Hadn't she thwarted his plan and avoided killing Keefe? If she had time to think she might have found it ironic how his cool eyes brought her courage and angered her at the same time. That anger started something simmering inside her. She had heard of amazing feats performed under the affects of adrenaline; mothers lifting cars off of small children, soldiers reacting in battle after months of training, athletes setting world records using sheer willpower. Until now she had never really believed it was possible but she could almost feel her brain switching into high gear. _FIGHT!_ Lisa held Jackson's gaze, feeding that anger, until the huge Russian pulled the curtain closed between them.

Jackson would have seen the man coming-he _would _have- if he hadn't been so distracted by whatever mental breakdown Lisa seemed to be going through. Her pain was so clear it was almost written across her face, like he was reading the story of her life in a book. How could he have missed so much in his initial recon? Her tragedy had obviously started long before she boarded the plane. When her hand clutched at her scar, he gasped a little because he felt the pain at his own chest.

Then she was being tugged up the aisle by one of the Russians. By the look on the man's face, Jackson could see his intentions and suddenly everything dropped into place. He _knew_; the scar, the self-imposed solitude, her reaction in the toilet, everything suddenly clicked and he _knew._ _FIGHT LISA!_ Jackson knew that as long as the Russian had his gun trained on the crowd, it was too risky to move. He would shoot Jackson, and probably Lisa as well, so for now he focused on sending her a message. _FIGHT!_

As soon as the curtain closed Jackson was on the move. He was on the other side of the plane and at least 15 feet toward the cockpit. He ignored the other hijacker standing guard over the passengers and launched himself over the laps of the people in the middle seats. Once he reached the aisle on the other side he started wading through the crammed people, stepping on more than one person in his haste. But it was taking too long! Even though they seemed to understand he was trying to help the woman at the back, there was too little room to move to give him a clear path. He heard a couple of thuds and someone cry out as he tripped over the little old lady's combat boots. Practically falling the last few feet, he stumbled into the wall and wrenched back the curtain. He was certain he would find Lisa dead and his hopes of completing the job killed right along with her.

What he did not expect to see was the hijacker bent over at the waist, hopping on one foot and clutching a bloody nose. He looked up just in time to see Lisa put all her weight behind her elbow and bring it down hard into his kidneys. The man went down with a groan.

The sound of the curtain being pulled caused Lisa to turn in surprise and Jackson found his eyes locked with her wild ones. For one moment it seemed like she might attack him, but then he saw a flash of pride in her eyes. No doubt his own face was a mirror of his amazement and she seemed to like what she saw. Her pride was infectious and in spite of himself, Jackson felt the corners of his mouth rise.

The moment was cut short by a growl from the Russian who launched himself from the floor to tackle Lisa while her back was turned. Moving quickly, Jackson grabbed her by the arm and spun her behind him. He tried to bring his knee up into the hijacker's solar plexus, but the hijacker used the momentum to push him to the ground. They grappled for a minute, but the larger man managed to get Jackson into a sleeper hold. He struggled to break free, but he was no match for the Russian. He saw Lisa jump back into the fray and wrap her own arms around the Russian's neck, trying to pry him away. Just when Jackson was starting to see stars, Kirill entered the back galley.

In two quick steps, the head hijacker ripped Lisa away and laid his gun against his cohort's temple. "I told you not to waste my time." he murmured and put two bullets in his brain.

Jackson's ears were ringing with the proximity of the gunshots. The sleeper hold relaxed instantly and he quickly extracted himself. He stood and quietly placed himself between Kirill and Lisa who was staring at what remained of her attacker.

"You're more trouble than I want." Kirill didn't look up as he returned his gun its holster.

Jackson nodded. "I could say the same about you."

Kirill had his men cuff both Jackson and Lisa and brought them back to the front of the plane with him. They sat side by side in first class, Lisa by the window and Jackson on the aisle. By now Lisa was coming down from her adrenaline high and she had a weird sense of déjà vu. The only difference was this time, they had a 300 lb Russian hijacker with a gun trained on them from across the aisle. She was a little surprised they hadn't been killed, but by the way Jackson had talked to the man in the coat, she could tell they had a history.

She risked a glance at her companion. She wasn't stupid. Just because he had come to her rescue back there didn't mean they were friendly. It didn't mean he had any interest in her beyond making a phone call that would end a man's life. As they sat in silence, she decided it wasn't a connection with _him_ she was feeling. It was a connection to _herself._ Something had happened back there. Lisa Reisert had started to make a comeback; and it was, at least in part, thanks to the man seated beside her. If not for him, she might have gone through life playing a part.

Lisa turned to the window and gave a little "Hmmph." It was almost funny because that was exactly what he wanted her to do. He had expected her to play a part in his scheme. In fact he had no doubts that she _would_ follow through because he obviously had no back up plan. She was tempted to point this out to him, but as she turned back the bump on her head gave a particularly nasty twinge. It was enough to bring her back to the present. She was still a hostage on a plane. Her father's life was in danger. A terrorist cell planned to kill someone in her hotel. She might be looking to the man sitting next to her to get her out of this alive, but that did not make him her ally.

Her tiny noise caught Jackson's attention and he had turned to look at her. In his eyes was a question. It may have simply been whether she were alright, or even to ask her to shut up, but she suddenly wanted him to know the real answer.

"It happened in a parking lot."

He was caught off guard by the topic, but she pressed on. Suddenly she was unable to look into his eyes as she relived the event in her mind.

"The scar."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lean forward to listen.

"Two years ago, in the middle of the day." She paused, but he didn't move an inch.

"He held a knife to my throat the whole time." She heard her voice waiver a little when she said it, but it was important that he knew. That he _knew_.

"Ever since, I've been trying to convince myself of one thing over and over."

He seemed to think about it for a moment before he replied. "That it was beyond your control?"

Lisa shook her head. "No." To an outsider, who knew only the Lisa she had shown the world for the past two years that might be a good guess. But now she was awake. Now she could tell someone the truth. She looked into his eyes so he would understand. "That it would never happen again."

Her words hung in the air as he soaked in their meaning. She wasn't only talking about rape. She was talking about being used, and it didn't matter if it was by the hijackers or by him.

Jackson looked uncomfortable; he couldn't quite meet her gaze, his eyes seemed trained on her tray table. After a few long seconds, he let out a breath she didn't know he'd been holding. Settling back into his seat like he was bracing for impact, he slowly nodded.

_A/N: No more of this damsel in distress nonsense_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It continues… Thanks to all my readers who have stayed with this story. More will follow SOON.**

Slowly, the plane started it's descent in a downward circle. After one glance out the window Lisa jerked back in her seat and clamped her eyes shut. Without lights below there was no way to tell if they were over land or water. The passengers in the rear of the plane murmured in frightened whispers and even Jackson's breathing picked up. The closer the plane got to the ground, the stronger the g-forces felt and Lisa silently prayed for the bump that told her the wheels were in fact touching ground instead of gulf waters.

It came with a sharp bang as the left wheel hit dirt, but the other wheels seemed to defy gravity. The plane bounced twice on its wheel as the pilot tried to level it out on the makeshift runway. Lisa couldn't help the little scream that escaped as her body was pitched forward. Unable to brace herself with her cuffed hands she felt the hard plastic of the armrest dig into her side and her chin smack hard on Jackson's shoulder, making her teeth crack together.

Miraculously, the pilot compensated for the uneven desert runway and regained control of the plane. Only as it slowed to a taxi did Lisa become aware of hot breath on her face and a warm body pressing her into her seat. Her eyes snapped open and she shrunk back in surprise to see Jackson so close. He must have thrown his body across hers to prevent her from being tossed out of her seat.

He looked just as startled; blue eyes wide and so close she could make out the tiny freckles across his nose. The moist pants from his full lips breaking across her own like a kiss made her body react in ways she knew it shouldn't and when his eyes dropped, her lips parted with a gasp.

That gasp seemed to break his concentration and he backed away quickly. Embarrassed by her reaction, she shifted her focus away from the man next to her. Out the window she saw a building complex not far off and a fleet of cars coming toward the landed plane. The dust dimmed lights from the complex had to be their destination. For better or worse, they had arrived.

Jackson risked a quick glance at Lisa as she peered out the window. There was no denying he had been attracted to her during his surveillance. More than once on a long night watching her sleep he had entertained thoughts that led to her quivering under him, at his mercy. It was why he had enjoyed their foreplay at the TexMex so much. But always in these fantasies she was a willing, if submissive, participant. He would corrupt her, ruin her for all other men and leave her wanting more. Her little vignette in the parking lot had tainted those thoughts. Unconsciously he shifted in his seat to stay between Lisa and the gun pointed across the aisle by the hijacker.

The hijackers gathered toward the nose of the plane. Once the plane came to a stop the pilot was lead back and tossed into an empty seat. A quick assessment showed Jackson the man's nose was probably broken but he seemed to be otherwise unharmed. In Russian, Kirill gave orders to his men to open the door and inflate the emergency slide.

Things were not adding up for Jackson. A typical hijacking didn't involve moving the hostages. He was starting to think this wasn't a hijacking at all, which meant he didn't have all the information. He couldn't execute a plan without all the facts. With a grimace he realized his window of opportunity to get Lisa to make the call was closing fast.

With a nod from Kirill, the big scarred Russian spoke. "You will leave your belongings on the plane. Cell phones, electronics, luggages, everything stays." One by one the frightened passengers started to move, lining up like sheep for the slaughter. First in line was a middle-aged couple, probably on their way to Florida for a vacation. The man stepped in front of his wife as one of the hijackers approached. With a threatening grin, the hijacker grabbed the wife by the arm and pulled her out from behind her husband.

"Tracy!" he cried out, but was silenced by a gun in his face from Kirill.

The crying woman stood absolutely still as she was patted down in view of everyone. When nothing was found she was shoved toward the door of the plane and instructed to exit the plane using the evac slide. With one last glance at her husband she primly sat on the floor of the plane and pushed off down the slide.

The man quickly followed his wife. Each passenger was patted down as they disembarked and any personal belongings they had on them were removed and piled on the seats next to the door.

"Up," the man across the aisle spoke, gesturing for Jackson and Lisa to fall into line with the other passengers. With a glare, Jackson obeyed and felt Lisa do the same behind him. He stood in the aisle and met the hijacker's gaze eye to eye as Lisa slipped behind him and walked toward the end of the line.

"_What are you doing here?" _Jackson asked the man in Russian. His smirk grew as the man met his question by shoving him in the shoulder with the tip of his gun. _"You're looking for something. This isn't a hijacking at all is it?"_ Another shove from the gun and Jackson had his answer.

Lisa was behind two teenage boys and Jackson behind her. As the line moved slowly forward, Lisa suddenly tripped over seemingly nothing and bumped into the boy in front of her. Jackson saw a flash of something at her waist as she straightened herself and looked around to make sure no one noticed. When she felt his eyes watching, she glared back like she was daring him to do something about it.

He would have laughed if her actions hadn't been so totally out of character for the Lisa he thought he knew when he boarded the plane. "_It would never happen again." _He would never admit it, but it was her bright eyes that both intrigued and concerned him. Her new found confidence had her almost giddy, like a child who finally had the training wheels taken off. The fear of falling was definitely still there but the idea of independence outweighed any trepidation. Jackson needed to regain control quickly or she was going to try something stupid.

"Ah, ah, ah… Leese." He quietly swiped the pen from her waistband before anyone noticed. She opened her mouth to complain but just then the large, scarred Russian grabbed her by the arm to pat her down. She looked right at Jackson as he felt her up, her eyes full of accusation that made him regret disarming her.

Both on the ground, he couldn't help himself. Every look from her made him feel like he had done the wrong thing by taking the pen, something he was not used to feeling. Angry at her ignorance, he stepped up close to offer some kind of explanation. "Listen," he whispered under his breath, "The first thing he'll do when he gets in contact with his people is tell them I'm here. I wasn't in the plan and they'll come to interrogate me. The people I work for guarantees me immunity, no matter who hired him, and I'll slip away to let you out."

"To make the call," she finished for him.

Caught off guard, his anger suddenly abated and he merely nodded.

The hostages were being loaded up into the back of a tractor trailer that had pulled up alongside the plane. They were trading one prison for another it seemed. The passengers struggled to scramble up into the truck while the Russians shoved them along with automatic rifles.

The sound of a car door opening behind him and the tail end of a phone conversation caught Jackson's attention. "-and tell Mike the next phase is going through. He knows what will happen if his source serves up the same kind of shit as that last one."

That voice.

He could only see her ankle stepping out of the car but hearing that voice made him instantly sick.

_He was sixteen when he first saw her in her element. Diamond Dog put his arm around Jackson's shoulders and whispered, "My girl knows how to make them talk."_

_At twenty two she ran the long con for him with Wall Street types playing the coquette, the schoolgirl, whatever brought them to their knees. Her perfect teeth snapped like electricity as she spoke her consonants, betraying only to the most practiced ear her veiled South African accent. _

_The next time he saw her was coming out of the back room at Flannigans. She was dressed in a light blue sundress and strappy sandals that click-clacked across the room to the bar. Seating herself next to him she had ordered a Manhattan and casually reached for a napkin from the holder to wipe the slight traces of blood off the fingers of her left hand. "So you're Jackie boy?" she asked, without really asking._

_With a wince, now 19 year old Jackson stopped gawking and turned back to his drink. "Jack," he gritted out between his teeth._

"_We'll see," she said and tossed back her drink._

_They worked together. Dog had called it a partnership, but really it was more of an apprenticeship for Jackson. He learned to read people, watching her rake them over the coals with them begging for more. He fell in love with her and she laughed in his face. He watched her take every mark into her bed and she teased him relentlessly. He made jealous remarks and she revved him up and left him high and dry. _

_She saved him when they came to kill Diamond Dog. After it was all over he learned it had been her who betrayed the man to the Syndicate in exchange for their services. "You didn't really think I was going to keep doing that pervy bastard's dirty work my whole life? A bottom-dweller like that deserves what he got." _

_The last time he saw her - naked back to him, the white curtains floating around her as she watched the Moroccan sunrise -_

"Jackson?" Lisa stood in front of him, giving his sleeve a gentle tug toward the truck.

He couldn't look away. It was like a bug drawn to the light. It would all end in flame. She snapped the phone shut and turned to look at him. As she turned, all he could see were her perfect teeth snapping together into a shark's death grin.

"Hi Jack."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A bit more background for our favorite terrorist. **

**WARNING - This chapter includes references to sex, torture and drug use. If these offend, skip this chapter. I tried to keep them toned down and I feel they are important to Jackson's character development. Please do not read if you can be triggered. Thanks.**

It barely registered that Lisa was pulling him into the truck. Off balance, Jackson stumbled and went down to his knee in the dust. Unwilling to put his back to the woman he scrambled to his feet and looked over his shoulder. She was still grinning. Somehow he got into the truck turned to watch the nightmare from his past through the closing doors.

As the truck started to move it was as if someone flipped a switch and the mostly silent passengers suddenly started shouting. "What are they going to do to us?"

"We're all dead!"

"Where are they taking us?"

"No one will ever find us now!"

One voice rose above the rest. "You seem like you know the leader." It was the man from the line at the airport. "You're one of them!"

Jackson slowly turned his icy glare on the man and the rest fell silent. The darkness and the jostling from the truck didn't stop everyone from hearing Jackson's low response. "If I was one of them, would I be chained up with the rest of you?"

"Well then who are you?" a little blonde girl asked. "I watched you fight one of them. Are you an Air Marshal?"

There were a few sighs of relief but Jackson quickly ended that assumption.

"No. What I am is apparently the only one who understands what's happening here. Their mission has changed. This is no longer a run-of-the-mill hijacking." He had their attention now. "This is much worse. They're looking for something on board the plane."

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, looking at their neighbor as if they were somehow the reason they were in this predicament.

"That's right. Someone here knows EXACTLY what's going on, but for whatever reason hasn't chosen to give up their cargo. As long as Kirill and his team don't find what they're looking for, we are a resource. But - as soon as that balance shifts - everyone in this truck is expendable."

There was silence for a moment, then a woman at the back cried out, "Oh my god."

A few people started accusing the person next to them, violence breaking out between two men. Another man started shouting, "For God's sake! Tell them where it is! Tell them or they'll kill us all!" A baby started to cry and full blown panic was about to break out when Lisa stepped in.

"Stop! Stop this now!"

Lisa's small frame was hard to see from the back of the truck but her voice carried like a gunshot. "We can't do this. If we're going to come out of this alive we have to stay together. We're going to need everyone. Instead of accusing people we don't even know, we need to stay calm. Do you really think a plane can just disappear off the radar? There are people looking for us, people COMING for us. We just have to hold on for a little longer."

With a huff of exasperation, Jackson stalked toward the far corner of the container, pleased at the way the other passengers parted to avoid his wrath. He wasn't their hero, sent to lead them to safety. He was the bad guy, although apparently a secondary one. They wanted someone to coddle them and tell them everything was going to be alright; well Jackson was a realist. It was far more likely every last one of them would be left dead in the desert, never to be found. If his gut clenched at the sudden image of Lisa's corpse rotting in the hot sun, it was just dehydration from the nachos and alcohol at the airport.

Lisa was in her element. Four years at the Lux Atlantic had taught her excellent damage control skills. After a few minutes of elaborate rescue scenarios, people were still whispering among themselves but at least they didn't look ready to kill each other anymore. Mostly they were huddled in groups of two or three, waiting for the rescue Lisa had all but promised them.

She wasn't sure if she totally believed her own story, but it had done it's work. As everyone retreated into groups she caught sight of Jackson glowering in the back.

He lashed out as she settled next to him on the floor. "Well if it isn't people-pleaser Barbie to the rescue. I especially liked the bit about the military being on their way."

"Shut up Jack."

"Don't tell me to shut up. Unlike you, I'm not a liar. I don't tell people what they want to hear just to keep everyone happy. Your skills are impressive I must say. These people are trapped in a large metal box in the middle of the Mexican desert, awaiting either abandonment or execution, and yet they're content to sit quietly and believe some story you concocted. I'm beginning to wonder just how far those people pleasing skills get you in other arenas, like say the bedroom? I bet you'd make a first-rate hooker."

His words were meant to wound but she recognized them for what they were, overcompensation for his reaction outside. Instead she shook her head and almost chuckled as she said, "God! What is your problem? Is it just me or is it all women? What happened to turn you into such a monster?"

He felt a flash of something remarkably like fear, but quickly assumed his manager-mask and stared angrily at his feet spread out in front of him. With a sigh, she leaned on the wall of the jostling trailer and rested her manacled hands in her lap. "But you're right you know." This caught his attention again. "Ever since the rape I _have_ been lying. To everyone. My friends, my dad, my therapist, even to myself. Until today I've been keeping up so many appearances, I forgot which ones were the real me and which ones were made up. It's stupid really, but after today I just- I know I don't have to act out a script of the life I'm expected to be living. I don't have to overcompensate or make apologies for my weaknesses. My life isn't perfect, and it doesn't have to be."

There was a pause just a little too long before he huffed a snarky, "Congratulations."

He seemed to have calmed down a little bit and she still hadn't gotten an answer to her question. She didn't realize when she asked how much she really did want to know the answer. _What happened to turn you into such a monster? _He knew all her secrets now, it only seemed right. But instead she asked, "Who was that woman? How do you know her? What- what happened between you?"

He looked up to the heavens as if pleading for an end to this interrogation, then let his head fall back against the wall of the container.

_-The night after a job was always the hardest. Watching Alexis take another man into her bed could be explained away as part of the job while they were working. It was watching her choose someone else off the job that cut deep. They had worked together for 8 years and never once had she chosen him. The flirtatious peck on the cheek, the pinch on the butt, the shared smile across the room. Her every movement had him caught tighter in her web. _

_Tonight he didn't expect anything different. He sat at the hotel bar listening to the Moroccan music that tainted everything with a cinnamon spice haze that went well with his brandy. He would watch her choose her mate like a huntress, marking and stalking him before he knew what was happening. She would toss him a glance over her shoulder to make sure he saw she was leaving with another man. He would find an unsuspecting girl to take out his anger and frustration on and take her to his bed in revenge._

_But tonight was different. She touched his shoulder and didn't look away when he searched her face. Her hand ran down his chest, teasing each button on his shirt as she went lower. "Alexis I," he started but she silenced him with a look. She leaned in close and he had to close his eyes when she pressed her lips below his ear in a sensuous kiss. The sound of the sitar music seemed to enter his blood and his heart began beating erratically when she didn't pull away with a laugh. _

"_Jack." His name from her lips was enough to push him over the edge. He grasped her head in his hands and pulled her up to meet his lips. Teeth met teeth, catching lips between as he held on, unwilling to let her go. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and he met her with enthusiasm. _

_Several hours later Jackson stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room, trying to catch his breath. His arms hurt as he shifted, just a reminder that his wrists were still bound to the headboard with his belt. _

_Alexis was across the room, standing naked in front of the window. The tendrils of smoke from her cigarette floated up in the early morning light. The sun was just rising and it made it hard for him to make out her features, turning her into a silhouette against the blowing curtains._

_She started talking without turning around. "You never asked how I got Samir to divulge the information."_

_The topic of conversation was unexpected so it took Jackson a minute to answer. He had to clear his throat before he could say, "I assumed -"_

_Alexis laughed. "You have never doubted my skills when I take a man to bed. I guess that's why I felt I owed you that at least."_

_She turned and began to dress. "Samir was just as pleased as you no doubt feel, but unlike you he has other goals to accomplish. When I found I couldn't turn him, I had no choice. You understand?"_

_Jackson was starting to catch on and his predicament began to be very uncomfortable. _

"_But you see, his people knew the Syndicate was after Samir. They just didn't know who was the agent. I had to give them someone to take them off my trail. Now that my position is secure, I will be trusted in the inner circle. I'm sure you know what that means to the Syndicate. They were only too happy to suggest who might take the fall."_

_Jackson jerked at the belt, trying to escape his bonds but she had him trapped._

_Dressed, with her shoes in one hand and her cigarette in the other, she walked to the side of the bed. "Don't take this too hard Jackie boy. You got what you always wanted after all." She bent down and kissed his forehead before turning her back and walking out the door, swinging her shoes beside her.-_

"Jackson?"

Once again, Lisa's voice jerked him out of his flashback. He sighed, she would not be silenced on the subject until he answered. "You've heard of waking up in Vegas?"

Lisa nodded.

"Try waking up in a Syrian prison camp when the woman you loved sold you out to the highest bidder."

Her eyes were wide, shocked he would share something so personal. He moved his hands to his shirt buttons and she jumped back. "Shh, Leese, not that. Look." As her eyes shifted nervously to his chest he saw the horror creep across her face and he was suddenly glad she couldn't watch his own face. With her eyes trained on the deep, discolored scars that started at his neck and flared down his abdomen, across his left hip she couldn't see the vulnerability even he couldn't hide.

Jackson had worked hard to make sure no one but his doctor saw the true extent of the scarring, wearing a shirt at the gym and in bed. There were a few deep cuts from whippings that had healed into dark red welts, but the majority were from the acid burns the guards used to teach him and other prisoners their place. Jackson hadn't been sent to prison because he had information to be gained, he was there because he crossed the wrong people. That made the torture sessions pointless and no matter how much he screamed he could never make them stop.

He watched her intently for any signs of laughter but was surprised when Lisa put her fingers to her mouth and her eyes begin to water. Unconsciously, her other hand went to cover her own scar and she glanced up at his face. He tried to hide his discomfort but he could tell she saw it written all over his face.

It was horrible. Beyond horrible. The scarring looked like rivulets of red and white running all over his chest and down his torso. The skin was uneven and looked rough to the touch, even though the burns had completely healed. Slowly, without really realizing what she was doing, Lisa pulled her hand away from her mouth and in the barest of touches ran her fingertips over the scarring on his abdomen. His breath hitched in his chest and she shrunk back thinking he would strike out at her but instead he took a deep breath and opened his shirt a little more for her to see.

No one had touched him skin to skin like that since he got out. Jackson could feel himself shivering as she gently traced the scars, her finger slightly wet from her lips. He knew he should stop her. He knew he should never have let her know him like that, but he couldn't take it back. Suddenly uncomfortable, the moment was over but for some reason he couldn't move his hands to close his shirt. He couldn't be the one to end this treatment because it might never happen again.

Lisa felt the shift in his emotions and saw shame in his eyes. It was a familiar feeling for her. Quickly, she buttoned him up from his waistband to his collar, restoring at least the image of normalcy. She pressed her palm lightly to his chest as she finished, as if telling him she would keep his secret.

The truck came to a stop and the passengers waited with fearful whispers for whatever might come next. Jackson and Lisa had settled back beside each other, Jackson staring straight ahead and Lisa casting sidelong glances at him.

"Why?"

It had been too much to hope she would let it go.

When he didn't answer, she asked again. "But why? After everything you went through, why are you still doing this? Isn't this kind of stuff the reason you were put away in the first place?"

It rang true, but Jackson knew there were always shades of grey. "Well, you see, everyone has a price. I have a very particular skill set and there are only a few ways I can utilize those skills."

She scoffed and seemed ready to interject but he cut her off. "That's right Leese. Even you have a price. Take your dad for example. Always calling to check up on you, asking if you're sure you're OK. You see, now that I know he has a reason to call, I know your price. You're just as willing as I am to compartmentalize and go on with your life in order to avoid conflict with your dad. I bet you didn't even move out of your apartment where it happened? Or did it happen at the Lux?"

That hurt, but Lisa had already made up her mind to change things with her father when she got home. "Yeah, OK you got me. I'm a mess. But that doesn't mean what you and I do is right. You have to draw the line somewhere Jack. Are you just a pawn that gets sacrificed when the risks are too high? Or are you in charge of your own life?"

Jackson stared ahead to give the impression he was ignoring her, but no one had ever asked the pointblank question before and he couldn't stop himself from answering it: No.

_-"Mommy has to go to work now, Jackie." She wrapped her coat tightly around her skinny torso, but not before her young son caught a glimpse of skin and purple lycra. She knelt down in front of him and tucked his hair behind his ears with her long, cheap fingernails. Four year old Jackson held his breath as he kissed her tired, beautiful face through the cloud of perfume.-_

_-"Isn't this nice, just the two of us?" Her hand shook a little as she cut the cake, but Jackson was more excited about the half melted racecar on top. "It doesn't matter that we're a couple weeks late. This way your birthday gets stretched out and we can enjoy it even more." In that moment, he thought she was beautiful. With the sun setting in the window behind her the light made her look like an angel; he could hardly see the track marks and bruises on her arms.-_

_-It was gone. Six months ago he'd started blackmailing his history teacher over an affair the man was having with one of his students. After a while, he realized kids at school and other teachers needed small, short term loans and he could collect at a 200 percent interest in exchange for his discretion. In two months, he'd more than tripled his original $1500. And now it was gone. Another 16 year old might have shouted or punched the wall in frustration but Jackson knew exactly what happened to his money. He stood completely still for almost 10 minutes, slowly breathing through his nose. Finally he went to his book bag and pulled out the hunting knife he kept there for collecting on his loans. In ten quick steps he was outside her door. The door squeaked as it swung open slowly and through the dust and the cigarette smoke he made out her skinny form lying on the bed. The needle was still in her arm and he saw her head tossed back as she rode the delirium. A few moments later when her eyes came into focus she saw him standing there. "J-Jackie?" He knew at that moment she was already dead. As he walked out the front door he could hear her crying and screaming his name but he never looked back.-_

-_He'd gotten beat up twice at the shelter, gaining two black eyes and a reputation for fighting dirty. They kicked him out, threatening to call the cops. As he shouldered his backpack and walked down the street a dark limo pulled up along side him and rolled down it's window. A deep, Russian accented voice called out to him. "You the boy who took on Jimmy Fitz and his brother?"_

_Jackson stopped walking and nodded, ready for another fight._

_The voice in the car laughed a rumbling chuckle and motioned him closer, "And he owns up to it too. I think I like this one."_

_As Jackson got closer he saw the weathered hand of a man in his 50s, covered in rings. The man's face was covered in shadow and the smoke from his cigar filled the car. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am Diamond Dog. I want to give you a future."-_

The memories were so vivid he swore he could smell that damn cigar.

Everyone jumped when the lock rattled at the doors. They opened to reveal they had indeed been taken to the compound. "Rippner, come with us," called out one of the Russians.

Lisa shifted unconsciously in between Jackson and their captors and he felt his heartbeat quicken. A few minutes ago she thought him a monster and now she was protecting him. Unwilling to process those feelings, Jackson jerkily climbed to his feet and pushed past Lisa, casting her a look over her shoulder that told her to behave.

The look on her face told him she probably wouldn't.

**A/N: Phew! That was a long one! Lots of feels for you.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Oh yeah! The plot! Not all flashbacks this time I promise! **

Once he was out of that trailer Jackson felt like he could breathe again. Too many people, too much talking, not enough facts, not enough action. If he was ever going to get out of this alive he HAD to figure out what was going on here, and that meant figuring out why Alexis was here.

If Alexis was here, that meant the Syndicate was behind both his job and Kirill's job. This was very bad news. Jackson was counting on dropping some names with whoever was in charge to get him and Lisa out of this mess, but now that wouldn't work. He realized that he was more frightened of his own company than another. "_You're just a pawn_," he heard Lisa's voice in his head but shook it away.

The compound seemed to be some kind of old factory and it's outbuildings. Once inside he could tell it hadn't been used in a very long time. There was scaffolding all over the interior as if a work project had been abandoned. The perfect hideout for the Syndicate. He'd been to several similar locations all over the world.

His guards marched him up some metal stairs to a mezzanine area with offices overlooking the factory floor. A door down the walkway was open and Alexis' unmistakable voice was drifting through it. He couldn't see her from where he stood, but he could see Kirill through a window.

"Have you found it yet?"

Kirill shook his head. "My men are looking."

"For your sake, lets hope they find it. We took you on a trial basis after the Bourne incident in Moscow. It would be a pity if I had to go back to the Director and tell him after we financed your surgeries you paid us back by hijacking the wrong plane."

Kirill was silent.

"Tell me when you've found it."

As Jackson was walked toward the office, Kirill walked out and met his eyes as they passed. It was a look Jackson was very familiar with. One men wore when they dealt with a beautiful woman like Alexis as a manager.

She was facing away from him as he was brought into the office, looking out the window.

"Jackie." she used the name to get a rise out of him but Jackson was a stone. "I've missed you. How have you been?"

Stone.

"Well I've made a few calls. Still working for the Syndicate? I'm surprised, since we were the ones who… well, you remember I'm sure. I heard they broke you out of Tadmoor after a couple years. Needed your expertise on some case or another. Still all about the money, eh Jackie boy?"

That stung, considering it was the excuse he'd just used to Lisa and for himself for two years for working for the same people who betrayed him. He swallowed that barb, knowing it would resurface later to haunt him like her comments always did. "So you know why I'm here?"

She smiled at him with her teeth. "Well that's where I'm confused. When I spoke with your master, oh I'm sorry, your contact, he was under the impression your job had already been taken care of in Texas. But then I see Miss Reisert and I realized you have unfinished business." She looked at her watch. "Cutting it a little close aren't we Jackie? You've got under an hour to make the room change or your entire plan is shot."

Jackson fumed. It was true. He had followed Lisa to Texas, even attended her grandmother's funeral in hopes to get her alone for a minute, but she had been running back and forth all day between caring for her grief stricken mother and the hors d'oeurve table at the wake. When he realized he was going to have to improvise on the plane he made the call to his contact, knowing it wouldn't be possible from the air. How was he supposed to know the plane was going to be hijacked? (or his mark would be so damned difficult?)

Alexis laughed when she saw his frustration. "Have a seat Jack." The two guards manhandled him into a chair, unlocked one wrist of his handcuffs and hooked him to the heavy office chair. Once he was secure she waved them away, never taking her eyes off Jackson.

They closed the door and turned their backs to the window. After 4 years, Jackson was once again alone with Alexis. She circled him like a predator and he forced himself to stay facing the front, even though every instinct told him not to let her out of his sight. "I'm pleased things worked out this way," she cooed as she ran her fingertips across his shoulders. "I could never tell the Syndicate this, but I'm glad you lied to your contact and got yourself in this little scrape. Poor little Jackie, on his own and needing Alexis to help make it right."

He couldn't help the reaction to lash out at her but she moved quickly out of his reach with a chuckle. "I must say I'm surprised you're having trouble with this one Jack. The submissive waifs always were your specialty."

Jackson almost laughs when he hears his own first impression of Lisa coming from Alexis. It made him feel a little better to know he wasn't the only one who misjudged the little hotel clerk from Miami. Those feelings left quickly enough when he felt her hands on his shoulders and her breath in his ear.

"I always wondered why you found me so attractive when you're such a sadist. It always turned me on watching you work those little whiny bitches. Maybe after you coerce Miss Reisert into making that call we can have some angry sex. I'm sure you've got a lot pent up in there wanting to get out."

The sensation of her hands on his shoulders, fingers tracing along his collarbone and her breath in his ear made him shudder with the realization that he still wanted her. How could that be? After all she had done to him? _"Where do you draw the line?_" Lisa's voice echoed again in his mind.

His muscles tensed and he reached for her once again with his free hand but she was already walking behind the desk.

"I've got a room all set up for you. Table, chairs and of course a phone. Need anything else dear?" Her condescending tone made him even angrier.

"Not before I get some answers. What the hell is the Syndicate doing hijacking a plane? Also, if they were hijacking a plane, why wasn't I told about the op before I booked a ticket? I think that might have been good to know for my op."

All the flirting and joking was gone in an instant. She looked very seriously at him for a moment. "The hijacking was need-to-know. If you needed to know, you would have known. Besides, which do you think ranks higher on the Syndicate's list? A politician with a big mouth? Or a computer chip with a code that can hack any system?"

It was all coming clear now. Jackson had thought he was high on the chain of command. He was nothing more than a little bug, a nuisance that distracted from the real motives for the Syndicate.

As if to solidify his conclusion, Alexis said, "We could assassinate Mr. Keefe any time we want. You are replaceable."

Jackson set his jaw. "Well in that case lets just forget it. Obviously my op is secondary to Kirill's. We should pool our resources and focus on finding that chip."

Suddenly Alexis began to laugh. It was terrifying. Her mouth open, white teeth flashing, Jackson knew he had said the wrong thing. Before he could struggle for an answer she gasped out between laughs, "Oh my god! You LIKE her! This is too good!"

"What?" Jackson was shocked at her accusation. "What? No! I-"

"Of course you do! Trust me, if anyone knows the signs it's me. You loved me once. God you're pathetic."

"No! Alexis listen, I -"

Then just as suddenly the laughter stopped. Alexis was right in his face with her hand around his throat. "No you listen Jackie boy. You are going to make her make the call or die trying. Because you know what will happen if you don't? I won't just stop at turning you over to the Syndicate. I'll kill her. And all the hostages. Don't think I won't."

Her teeth clipped the last "t" right in his ear and Jackson knew she would do everything she said, and worse.

Alexis didn't wait to hear his response. She walked to the door and called in the guards. "Take Mr. Rippner to the interrogation room downstairs. And bring Ms. Reisert."


End file.
